


The Devil Went Down To Brakebills

by Lexalicious70



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Halloween, M/M, References to Good Omens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexalicious70/pseuds/Lexalicious70
Summary: After the Psychic kids humiliate Quentin at a Halloween party, Eliot comforts him while planning his revenge on those who dared to harm his angel.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47
Collections: Kinktober Horror Erotica Collection by Quentins_Quill





	The Devil Went Down To Brakebills

**Author's Note:**

> For Kinktober: The Queliot Edition, day 23: "Horny devils and fallen angels."

The door to the Psychic Kids cottage burst open, letting out a loud spate of music, punctuated by mocking laughter. Quentin stumbled out, still dressed in his Halloween outfit, an exact replica of Aziraphale’s from  _ Good Omens _ . The front of the trousers showed a spreading stain as Quentin staggered down the steps and ran into the hedge maze that covered a good portion of Brakebills campus. Eliot followed, dressed as Crowley. 

“Quentin, wait!” He called, casting a Chakril’s mini sun to light his way. 

“Go away!” Quentin shouted from somewhere nearby. Eliot frowned--the magic in the maze gave off echoes that could sometimes trick you. 

“Q, stop! Let me help you!” He called, cursing the Psychic Kids and himself for trusting them. The invitation to the Halloween party had been so sincere, yet they hadn’t forgotten (or forgiven) Eliot calling them losers in front of Quentin his first day at Brakebills. Halfway through the party, they’d brought out green, smoky-looking drinks they called Zombie’s Blood and claimed they gave you one hell of a high. Eliot hadn’t tried his right away but Quentin took two long sips, and the spell in the spiked concoction caused him to lose control of his bladder and wet himself. Eliot supposed his drink had been spiked as well, but unfortunately for Quentin, he’d paused in sampling it to finish the  _ hors d’oeuvres  _ he’d been eating. 

“I said go away!” Quentin called, and his voice sounded closer this time. Eliot rounded a corner to find his partner sitting against a stone bench, still soaked, his face wet with tears. Eliot marked each one and promised himself he’d deliver vengeance upon the Psychic Kids tenfold. 

“Q . . .” 

“Don’t look at me!” Quentin tore off his blond wig and threw it into a nearby fountain. Eliot crouched down. 

“Nonsense. I’ve seen worse. Hell, I’ve looked worse--you can ask Margo.” He sighed. “I think they meant to take us both down a peg--” 

“They’ll tell everyone!” Quentin almost wailed it. “The professors and all the Physical Kids--Penny! Oh God, I’ll never hear the end of it from him!” 

“Q, hey--” Eliot took his hands and squeezed them in a reassuring touch. “I promise you, if Penny utters one word to you or anyone else about this, he’ll be eating those scarves he thinks are so fashionable.” 

Quentin managed a smile and Eliot tugged him to his feet. The younger man groaned. 

“Oh God, I stink.” 

“We’ll fix that, Angel,” Eliot smiled. “Do you expect your Crowley to abandon you?” 

“No,” Quentin replied in a tearful tone, and Eliot put an arm around him as they headed back to the Physical Kids cottage. 

As Quentin showered, Eliot poured them each a glass of wine as he set his mind to revenge on the Psychics. By the time Quentin was toweling off, the plan was fully formed and Eliot dashed off a note to a friend before folding it into an airplane and casting on it. He sailed it out the window just as Quentin returned. 

“There you are,” Eliot smiled and slipped his Crowley glasses back on. “C’mere, Angel . . .” 

“El,” Quentin smiled as he belted his robe, a green terry cloth thing Eliot couldn’t convince him to part with. Eliot lowered the glasses slightly and caught Quentin’s eye. After a moment he held his arms out and Quentin went to the bed where he sat. Eliot caught him by the hips and set him in his lap. 

“My sweet Q." He stroked a hand through Quentin’s hair. “I’m so sorry. Those losers were angry at me but you took the brunt of my punishment.” He kissed Quentin’s lips and tugged on the belt of the robe, allowing it to fall open. “I’ve got something to make you feel better.” His long fingers found Quentin’s cock and gripped it. Quentin groaned and pushed his hands through Eliot’s dark curls. 

“You go too fast for me, Crowley,” he half-chuckled, then tipped his head back as Eliot started to stroke him. “Oh . . . oh El, that feels good . . .” his cock stiffened in Eliot’s hand and Eliot tugged the smaller man forward just enough to nibble and kiss his neck. Quentin’s hips bucked upward in response and his cock began to leak. Eliot nuzzled around until he found an especially sensitive spot under Quentin’s left ear and worked at it as his fingers stroked and teased Quentin’s erection, his thumb gliding over the wet head. Quentin’s breathing quickened and he slid his arms around Eliot’s waist. 

“Come for me, Angel,” Eliot whispered in his ear, and a moment later Quentin shuddered and fountained over Eliot’s stroking hand. Eliot bit that sensitive spot on Quentin’s neck as his lover came, causing Quentin to whimper and spurt a second time. Once he spent his pleasure, he raised his head, panting, dark eyes gleaming. 

“You . . .” he began, then paused to catch his breath. “Are such a--a--” 

“Devil?” Eliot grinned, and Quentin gave a weary nod, resting his head on Eliot’s shoulder. Eliot lifted him off his lap, casting a hygiene spell to clean them both up. “Let’s get some sleep, Q, things will look better in the morning.” He tucked the young magician into bed, stripped to his boxers, and spooned him until they both drifted off. 

___________________________________________________________________________

True to Eliot’s word, no one on campus gossiped about what had happened to Quentin at the party. Instead, the major topic that drove Brakebill’s gossip train that day was how everyone in the Psychic Kids cottage had awoken to dozens upon dozens of bouquets of Sea Holly and Datura in every room, filling the building with a combined odor of dog shit and rotting meat. Rumor had it that most of the cottage’s occupants were currently in the infirmary, puking their guts out after being overcome by the plants’ natural but extremely foul odors. 

“A pity, that,” Eliot said as he, Margo, and Quentin walked to P.A. class together. “A spell must have gone wrong.” 

“Something like that,” Margo nodded, but a gleeful knowledge danced in her eyes. As they reached the P.A. building, Eliot opened the door for Quentin. 

“After you,” he smiled, and Quentin gave him a warm grin in return. Eliot watched him start down the hall and then followed, never slowing as he traded graceful high fives with three Nature Kids as they walked past, their smiles as innocent as an angel’s. 

THE END 


End file.
